


Laundry Day

by ikonfastfiction



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, First Meetings, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 16:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikonfastfiction/pseuds/ikonfastfiction





	Laundry Day

It’s just one of those days.

The weather’s nice for once, after a week-long cold spell. Everyone seems keen on spending time outdoors: picnics at the park, a long hike, an al fresco brunch at the corner café.

Everyone, it seems, except you. Because _laundry day_.

If you ever win the lottery - which will never happen because you never buy a ticket (and even if you did buy a ticket, John Oliver once said the chances of winning the lottery are as slim as you getting struck by lightning for the second time in the same place while being eaten by a shark) – your only extravagant spending would be to shop for clothes every week, wear them once and discard them, so you never have to do laundry ever again.

Of course, by then you can probably just hire someone to do the laundry for you, among other adulting things like doing dishes and cleaning your apartment. That would be a good way to spend your lottery winnings.

The thing is, at this particular moment, you don’t even really need to win the lottery to avoid doing laundry. On this lovely day, for instance, you could’ve just driven to your parents’ house, and your mom would’ve gladly taken your dirty clothes for her to wash because she likes to think you’re still her baby who needs her to do the laundry. You probably would’ve been treated to a delicious breakfast free-of-charge too.

But _noooo_. Because you’re so keen on proving to your parents that you’re already getting used to this whole living on your own, adulting thing, you stubbornly trudged to the laundromat this morning in your ugliest pair of sweatpants and rattiest shirt (they were the only clean clothes you had left) to do your own laundry. Even if it’s literally the last thing you want to do today.

“Am I supposed to separate the shirts and the pants?” a voice next to you says, to no one in particular, because the boy who said it seems to be talking to himself while looking at the clothes in his hands, a white shirt in one, black track pants on the other. His thick brows are furrowed in confusion, like hairy caterpillars headbutting each other at the center of his forehead.

He must’ve felt you staring at him because he suddenly jerks his head up and turns to you. He blinks once, twice, looking lost.

“Umm, you need to separate your white clothes from the other colors.”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re tops or bottoms?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm.” Lost Boy puts all his white clothes in one machine and the others in the machine next to it. “Good thing I only have black or white clothes,” he murmurs to himself.

“Hey, what am I supposed to do with this?” he turns to you again, this time with a pair of bright red boxers in his hand.

“Umm, wash it?” You tell him, looking away. It’s not that you’re a prude or anything, but it’s not every day that you have random guys just showing you their dirty underwear.

“Yeah, but do I need to put it in a new machine? It’s the only thing I have that’s red.”

Is this guy being serious? Does he really not know how laundry works? “You can mix it in with your black clothes, it’s fine.”

“Oh. Hmm.” Lost Boy grunts in acknowledgement before turning to his laundry again.

You almost want to move machines, far enough away from Lost Boy to ensure no more sightings of his underwear, but you’ve already put all your clothes in the washer, so you shut the door and start the cycle. In the corner of your eye, you see Lost Boy watching what you’re doing and doing the same thing. You pointedly ignore him, walking past him without making eye contact as you sit on a bench across the machines and start reading the book you brought with you to while the time away.

To your horror, he sits right next to you. The laundromat is literally empty except for the two of you and there are so many benches around that he can have all to himself, but he decides to sit next to you.

The weather is nice out, you don’t have work today, yet you’re stuck indoors, doing your most hated chore, with the weirdest boy ever.

“I’m Junhoe by the way. Thanks for the help,” Lost Boy says, extending a hand for you to shake. “You probably think I’m super dumb. Can’t even do a bunch of laundry. It’s just this whole adulting thing is new to me, you know? I haven’t been on my own for very long.”

He smiles shyly, and you can’t help but notice the way it spreads to his entire face, his eyes turning into crescents and his cheeks lifting. He ruffles his dark hair and shrugs, fixing the way his shirt falls on his shoulders.

Maybe his candidness softens you up a little bit. Maybe you find a kindred spirit in him with his misadventures into adulting. You start to think that maybe you judged him a little too quickly.

“Can’t blame you. Living on your own is not easy. And I’ve been doing it a couple of years,” you assure him.

“Right? It’s like when you were playing house as a kid, except there’s nothing fun about it. I don’t know how to cook, so I keep burning everything – “

“I hate washing dishes.”

“Taking out the trash is a nightmare.”

“Cleaning the toilet is horrific.”

“The toilet! Oh that is the worst. Worst thing ever.”

After your litany of common complaints you lock eyes and can’t help but laugh at how whiney you’ve both become.

“Doing laundry is the actual worst though. So boring,” you say before you turn back to your book.

“Hmm. I don’t know. I think it has its charms,” he says, and when you look up from your book to look at him, he’s looking right back at you with his puppy dog eyes and a goofy smile on his face.

Well. 

Your little staring contest is interrupted by the beeps of the washing machines, and somehow it feels like a spell has been broken. You both stand up to collect your clothes. But as soon as you open the door to your washing machine, it hits you.

You forgot to put detergent before you started the cycle.

You bury your face in your hands and sigh loudly in frustration.

“A-are you okay?” Junhoe asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s nothing. I just forgot to put detergent in the machine so now I have to start over again. I’m so stupid.”

Resolved to your fate of being stuck in this laundromat for the entire day, you’re about to get detergent when Junhoe opens the door to his machine, steps back, and scratches his head.

“Would you look at that. I forgot to put detergent in my machine too.” He turns to you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, as if he’s won the lottery instead of having been sentenced to another eternity of waiting for a laundry cycle to finish.

Maybe his smile, however misplaced, cheers you up a little bit. Maybe the thought that at least you still get to spend time with him makes you feel a little better about your little mistake.

You both end up getting detergent and starting the cycles on your machines again. In a parallel universe where you’re just as absentminded but without this weird, Lost Boy Junhoe around, this would’ve been the worst day. But because he’s here, maybe it isn’t so bad.

“So hey, do you wanna grab a bite to eat or something? While we wait for the laundry and all,” Junhoe asks you all of a sudden.

“We’re not supposed to leave our laundry unattended.”

“There’s no one in attendance to witness us leaving our laundry unattended. Come on, it’s such a nice day! We can sit outside at the café and share a pie or something.” He smiles that megawatt smile of his again, and you realize he has the kind of smile and stare that will make it nearly impossible for anyone to say no to him.

So naturally, you say yes.

“It’s a good thing you suck at doing laundry like me,” you tell him as you walk out of the laundromat to head for the café. “I mean what are the chances of both of us forgetting to put detergent in?”

“I know. It’s like the universe is trying to tell us something,” he teases with a knowing grin.

*****

Junhoe opens the door of the laundromat for her. He’s not entirely sure what drew him to her from the very beginning. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s wearing a plain white shirt and black track pants almost identical to his. Maybe it’s the way she was humming a tune to herself when she thought there was no one else at the laundromat with her. Maybe it’s the amount of patience she demonstrated when he asked her all those stupid questions. Maybe it was the cute way she puffed her cheeks and pouted when she realized the mistake she made with the laundry.

Good thing he accidentally-on-purpose made the same mistake she did.

Once he’s back in Seoul, he’s definitely telling Chanwoo this story – if you ever want to meet a girl, forget to put detergent in the machine with your laundry. 


End file.
